


Asking for It

by TripleX_Tyrant



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Aftercare, Breathplay, Choking, Established Relationship, Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 08:01:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6321457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TripleX_Tyrant/pseuds/TripleX_Tyrant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick wants Morty to punish him. Morty doesn't know how to feel about it, but Rick's harsh words force his hands.</p><p>(Written for Month of Sin day 22. Prompt: ~Breathplay/Choking~)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Asking for It

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for day 22 of [Month of Sin](http://month-of-sin.tumblr.com/tagged/month-of-sin-calendar). The prompt was ~Breathplay/Choking~ which just so happens to be one of my major kinks. There was no way that I was going to not do this prompt! I also wanted to try writing about a part of their relationship that needs work. Morty is at least a few years older in this fic. Enjoy!

There was a time when Rick Sanchez was more shameless in what he wanted. When he didn't care what anyone thought of him whether he was on top plowing away with palm smacking and nails scratching, or whether he was down on his knees or even bent over a table taking it hard and fast. Everyone saw dignity in giving while receiving got no respect, but Rick didn't give a fuck because he liked what he liked regardless of the social stigma attached. But Morty made him different.

He only wanted Morty to see him at his strongest. In control. Even his weakness had to be spiteful so Morty would never think Rick was beaten. But as much as Rick loved unraveling Morty – making the boy whine and writhe under his touch, fingers twitching in their grip of Rick's arms as Rick removed all higher function – the old man missed receiving some roughness. At times, he even felt like he needed it. And begging the occasional rival for a beating through incessant mockery just wasn't cutting it.

"You're always such a good kid," Rick whispered, lying beside Morty in the boy's bed, holding his freshly nude body in his long, bare arms. Their legs were entwined and Morty purred into Rick’s soft neck.

“You say that now. Not w-when you were all pissed off at me yesterday.”

“No, it… I was pissed at the situation, Morty. N-not you.”

“‘s not what you said yesterday. W-when I missed my shot.” Morty muttered into Rick’s shoulder, pecking a tiny kiss there. One that asked for comfort. He was supposed to have blasted their loot free from its casing but had misjudged and damaged the loot as well. Rick had been angry, throwing easy insults at him. It wasn’t until they’d returned home that Rick began to feel guilty. He was supposed to be more mindful of Morty’s feelings now, but he still found himself slipping in his most frustrated moments.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“Say you’re sorry.”

Rick squeezed Morty tightly against himself, then let him go and looked at his face. “I’m sorry. I’m working on it.”

“I know. Th-thank you.”

That had been about a week ago, and again they found themselves lying nude in Morty’s bed together on another night when the house was otherwise empty. They were content to hold each other quietly for a while. Then Morty pressed himself against Rick’s thigh, and Rick smirked while Morty peppered kisses to his neck, causing Rick’s member to stir. Rick raked lazy fingers through Morty’s hair.

“Hey Morty,” Rick began. His thoughts lingered even now on how cruel he’d been to Morty earlier that week. How he’d lost his temper. And now he was craving something that he knew wasn’t healthy. But it was more of a need than a craving, and healthy was never much of a priority for Rick anyhow. “If you’re in such a damn hurry, w-why don’t you top?”

Morty hid his face in Rick’s chest, and Rick smiled. He still wasn’t confident in his topping abilities, but that was OK since Rick certainly wasn’t confident in asking Morty of all people for what exactly he wanted. “But I want you in me,” Morty said.

Rick stretched his arms and tucked them behind his head. “Then I want you to ride me.”

Morty frowned, and embarrassed he said, “I-I’m not too good at that.”

“Well I’m good at being ridden.” Rick grinned and bucked his hips, and Morty laughed. “Come on. Practice makes perfect. I’ll get you ready.”

Getting a wink from Rick helped Morty to relax, so he reached to his bedside drawer, handing the lube to Rick. Morty straddled him and Rick sat up, uncapping the bottle and squeezing it over his fingers and palm before setting it aside. He squeezed Morty’s ass, pulling the cheeks apart before slipping his lubed fingers over his entrance. As Rick worked his fingers, popping one in and shooting that stretching tingle through him, Morty took up his cock and gave himself little, gentle strokes.

“Oh, it’s so fucking hot when you touch yourself, Morty.”

Morty gave a short, nervous laugh and rolled his eyes. He hummed at Rick’s fingers working him open.

“OK, hold on,” Rick grabbed the bottle, feeling Morty swallow around his still fingers as he poured the lube liberally over his dick. When he pulled his fingers out, Morty shivered and squeaked, and Rick sat the bottle aside once more before slathering his dick and holding it upright.

Placing his fingertips under the head, Morty lowered himself. They both groaned when Morty’s tight hole stretched and slid down on Rick. Rick removed his slick hand, taking hold of Morty’s ass cheek, his other hand moving to rub at Morty’s thigh.

Eyes squinting, Morty rocked his hips back, hands planted at mid-thigh as he rose and lowered himself deliberately.

“Don’t over think it. Do what feels good for you.”

Morty blushed. “Y-yeah, OK.” He walked his hands forward onto Rick’s chest, leaning over him. With a gasp, Morty slowed his hips, rocking them gently now, feeling Rick pulling and dragging inside him. “Hohh, hnn, th-this is… Ahh.”

“B-better. Ah,” Rick sighed, then clenched his eyes closed and rocked up into Morty. His hands squeezed and pulled Morty’s ass, begging to go somehow deeper. Morty shuttered at each brush of his prostate, and he clenched tight around Rick. But as wonderful as he felt, Rick didn’t want to let it go on like this. To let it continue so sweetly. As he was prone to do, he wanted to ruin it.

“Morty,” Rick began, more nervous than he would ever hope to reveal. “W-why don’t you...” But asking Morty to do it… he couldn’t allow Morty to see him in such a vulnerable state. But fuck, he wanted it. Craved it.

Deserved it.

“W-what is it?” Morty asked, stopping completely. He looked down at Rick, watching him with such concern. Rick didn’t want those eyes anywhere near him.

Looking away, Rick continued. “S-since you’re on top, w-why don’t you try something new? Get…,” he hoped he wasn’t doing anything pathetic like blushing, “a little rougher.”

“W-what?” Morty laughed, and Rick scowled. “Uh… jeez Rick. I don’t think… I mean w-what would I even do?”

Rick returned him with a cold stare. One that wouldn’t reveal the way his heart pounded in his chest and made his ears throb. “I’ll tell you what you’ll do.”

If Morty noticed the shiver in Rick’s hands, he was too distracted to think anything of it as Rick took Morty’s hands in his own and pulled them to his neck. “Wrap your hands around me, baby.”

Morty pulled them back and sat up. “I dunno, Rick. I’ve heard horror stories about that sort of thing. I-I don’t wanna end up hurting you.”

“Don’t be so vanilla, Morty,” Rick huffed.

Morty frowned. Rick knew what he was doing, poking at one of Morty’s insecurities. In the years they’d known each other, Morty always wanted to make Rick respect him. Respect _something_ about him at least. But as much porn as Morty had consumed, as much as he’d seen or read online, Rick always knew more. Had lived more. Morty was just a stupid kid, always learning and never knowing. And to be vanilla, that is to be regular, felt pathetic compared to Rick. Normally, Rick would make learning fun. In the face of Morty’s insecurities and lack of experience, Rick had often comforted him simply through his own excitement to introduce Morty to new worlds, new methods, new everything. So why? Why would Rick defy that sentiment now?

Rick rolled his eyes and tucked his arms behind his head again. “Can’t shoot a gun. Can’t even get a little kinky. W-what even can you do?”

“Rick...”

Under Rick’s cold gaze, the concern in Morty’s broke. Turned to hurt. And Rick sighed a shivering sigh under it. They were almost where he wanted them.

“H-how many years have you been handling guns for me? At least three. Still can’t even aim. Been fucking for less than that. Hope you progress a little faster in the sex department, cause my patience can only take so much, Morty.”

“I-I’m doing my best.”

“Well damn, don’t admit that. A-and now I’m out at least two-hundred flurbos cause of your incompetent shit.”

“I’m s-sorry.”

“I’m just saying, it’s a good thing you’re not a prostitute. Nobody would pay to have you sittin’ around too nervous to… to get down to business.”

“Rick, if you’re just gonna be an asshole to me right now, I don’t wanna do this.”

As Morty went to pull away, Rick’s hands shot to his hips, holding him in place. “See, here’s one of your problem. Y-you give up too easily. I’m giving you the chance to change my impression of you, but you’d rather… r-rather run off and fall into your same routine than try something new. It’s no wonder you’re such a mess out in the field.”

And there it was. That look in Morty’s eyes that Rick had rarely seen but had always been the one to bring out. Had hated himself for bringing it out every time, and would surely hate it this time. He hated it already, but need was greater. “You’re saying,” Morty began, “the same things you said you were sorry for saying before.”

“I say a lot of things,” Rick replied.

“Maybe you should stop.”

“What, and let you talk? If you haven’t noticed, every time I let you make a decision things don’t exactly go the wa—gack!”

Air hissed through Morty’s teeth, and his hands shook as he crushed the heels of his palms down on Rick’s throat. His fingers coiled around to the back of Rick’s neck while his overlapping thumbs pressed into Rick’s rapid pulse under both sides of his jaw. Rick’s face flushed, his eyes wide as he struggled to pull in thin strands of air.

“Y-y-you like this?” Morty spat. He lifted and slammed down on Rick’s cock. “This was what you wanted, right? You old asshole! Me to fuck you and choke you?”

Rick breathed laboriously while Morty continued to slam himself on top of him, rocking the bed and bruising Rick’s hips. He smirked and croaked out, “That all you got? Little piece of crap. Call that choking?”

Morty snarled, lifting up and pushing his weight down on Rick’s neck, the skin soft and bulging between his fingers. Rick’s eyes bugged. He couldn’t breath at all now, and he could feel the buzzing of the blood trapped in his head. When he swallowed, Morty felt his throat roll under his palms. So he pushed harder.

“You won’t be happy until I crush your windpipe, will you?” Morty snapped, his hips beating a regular rhythm. “Y-you’ll never be able to talk shit to me again. All I… ah. All I do is love you, Rick.” Morty panted, his head dropping and rolling. He’d never felt this mixture of anger and arousal before, and he was getting lost in it. He rocked away on top of Rick, muscles burning. Morty’s frustrated moans lit sparks in Rick’s stomach, and he was so incredibly tight. Rick wanted to moan out, but no air could reach his burning lungs. Then, losing concentration, Morty’s grip on Rick went lax.

Rick gasped, eyes rolling about. “Ah yeah, Morty,” he breathed, his voice hoarse. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Morty’s fierce eyes burned at him. “Shut it!” he yelled, crushing down on Rick’s neck again. Precum rolled down his twinging erection and onto Rick’s lower belly. “I… hohh, fucking hate this. Y-y-you want me to hate you? Should… Ah, should I hate you? My life would be so much easier if I hated you, Rick.” Rick’s eyes squinted and he grew dizzy, his lungs screaming at his brain from the short taste of oxygen that Morty quickly tore away. A tear rolled down the corner of Rick’s left eye, running straight down to his ear. Just one. He’d never done that before while being choked, but then again he was always experiencing these things a little differently with Morty. Morty continued. “M-maybe that’s why you won’t shut up. You want me to hate you. Ah! Jeez. Hahhh… Rick!”

Morty clenched tighter around Rick’s dick when he called his name, and Rick lost it. Teeth clenched, his body jerked like a man sprinting to death’s door, his back arching off the bed as he shot off deep inside Morty. Morty leaned back, releasing Rick’s neck, and Rick gasped a terrible breath, air rushing desperately and painfully into his burning lungs. Morty ground his ass down on Rick, and his cock wept, coating itself and flooding what he’d already dripped on Rick’s lower belly. They both shivered and shook, all composure a million miles away.

*~*~*~*

When Morty pulled off of Rick, they shared heavy moans. Morty lowered himself onto his belly, face in his pillow while Rick caught his breath beside him. Dizzy and still panting, Rick sat up slowly and rubbed his neck. It stung to swallow. He reached for the tissues in Morty’s bedside drawer and wiped up his belly and crotch. The tear trail on the side of his head had dried, but he could still feel its tacky aftermath and couldn’t bring himself to wipe the feeling away. He stood on wobbly legs and walked to throw the tissues away in the trashcan by Morty’s desk. He looked at Morty lying on his belly with his face to the wall now.

“Y-you OK, Morty?” His voice was hoarse, and he winced when he spoke. Morty didn’t reply, and Rick frowned. He sat on Morty’s bed and put a palm on the boy’s back. But before he could apologize, Morty spoke.

“No, I’m not OK. I… I hurt you.”

Something twisted in Rick’s guts. He curled up behind Morty, taking him into his arms. “That’s… No, Morty,” he whispered close to his ear. “I hurt you. I hurt you so many times. I should be taking care of you. I’m so bad at it. That’s why I wanted this.”

Morty rolled to face him, and he chewed his lower lip. “Is that why you were saying all those horrible things to me? Because you felt bad for saying them before, so you said them again? D-do you not hear how ridiculous that is?”

“I didn’t mean a word I said.”

“Well I did!” Morty shoved himself against Rick’s chest, squeezing him tightly. “It would be s-so much easier to hate you, a-and sometimes I think you want me to. And I hated that. Th-that whole thing we just did.”

“I won’t ask you to choke me anymore.”

“I don’t care about that! I don’t want to punish you. I want… w-want to take care of you, too. If you want me to take care of you, whether that’s getting… rough with you or whatever, then fine. I-I can try. But when you make me feel like you want me to hate you, th-that’s like you saying you don’t mind if I stop hanging around you. That’s worse than any insult.”

Rick rubbed his hand up and down Morty’s back, taking in his heat. He’d hate to never feel this heat again. “I’m an idiot, Morty.”

“The insults are bad too though.”

Rick nodded. His sore throat clenched against whatever emotional outburst was trying to come through. “I still need a lot of work, huh?”

Morty’s laugh was a bit jarring. Rick hadn’t been expecting anything so pleasant. “W-we both probably do,” Morty said. “We’re working on it.”

Rick smiled, then winced at the pain in his throat. “Damn Morty,” he croaked, rubbing his neck. “Next time ease up a little, you maniac.”

At that, they both laughed. Morty pressed a kiss to Rick’s neck and gave it a gentle pat before snuggling in again. For now they found comfort in each other, flaws and all.


End file.
